


The Shadows On My Wall Don't Sleep

by Kendrene, TheGaySmurf



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, canon divergent 2x02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 04:25:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11638860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kendrene/pseuds/Kendrene, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGaySmurf/pseuds/TheGaySmurf
Summary: It's their first time and Nicole still can't quite believe it's happening. But what she knows is that she will do her hardest to make sure it's perfect for Waverly.Except that sometimes, no matter what you do, perfect remains tantalizingly out of reach.ORThe one where Nicole comes downstairs after the lovemaking.





	The Shadows On My Wall Don't Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! 
> 
> This is TheGaySmurf and mine first foray into co-authoring a story - hopefully you will like it and want more! 
> 
> Since I am in charge of posting, I want to thank my co-author for the chance to collab with her. She is crazily talented and one of the kindest people I have the luck to know and I look forward to writing more together. 
> 
> You can find us on Tumblr at @iamthegaysmurf and @kendrene
> 
> As usual kudos and comments are appreciated
> 
> \- Dren

Nicole can tell Waverly is nervous. 

From the way her girlfriend is worrying her lower lip between her teeth - in that sexy, unaware way that makes the deputy turn all gooey on the inside - to the fluttering of her small hands down the front of Nicole’s shirt as the young Earp smoothes away imaginary creases while edging ever closer to the buttons holding the blouse closed. 

Nicole cannot really blame her - the butterflies inside her own stomach having reached mammoth-level size - but she takes a deep breath and stomps down on her nerves ruthlessly, wanting to be an anchor her girlfriend can hold on to. 

“Are you sure?” The words tumble quietly from her lips, and still the silence shatters in a million pieces that burrow under their skin. Waverly swallows and nods, relief and thankfulness flooding her eyes as the burden of voicing her desire is lifted from her shoulders. 

There is a moment - like the collective breath the world takes before a hurricane breaks loose - in which they rest their foreheads against each other’s, just taking their soon to be lover in. Personal spaces merge, two countries gone to war until the lines they drew on paper as they took it slow mean nothing, and suddenly Waverly’s fingers are undoing her shirt, each button popping loose with the scrape of plastic against cloth. 

When Waverly’s fingertips flutter across the skin of her stomach, the muscles in Nicole’s abdomen quiver and jerk – the calm, cool, patient exterior she’s always so careful to present on the surface rippling with an undercurrent of desire and want and  _ need _ . 

It’s all she can do not to surge forward.  To press Waverly against the wall.  Press her down onto the mattress.  Press inside her and swallow down her name when it tumbles from her lips.

Instead, she forces herself to remain still. 

Her muscles so tense with the strain of not moving that she visibly trembles, like she might blink out of existence at any second.  Her mouth so dry that she can’t swallow, words she wishes she could say turning to ash on her tongue and sticking in her throat.  Her heart beating so erratically, it feels like there is a hummingbird in her chest, desperately flapping its wings as it tries to escape the cage of her ribs.

But  _ still _ . 

For Waverly.

She feels lightheaded as Waverly’s hands begin to creep further up her body.  Tracing her ribs, just barely skimming the lacy edges of her bra cups, following the straps up the flushed skin of her chest.  Nicole sucks in a breath sharply and it hisses against her teeth as though she’s been burned.

And she has been. 

Burned.   _ Branded _ .  Waverly’s fingers are moving with the slow determination of a molten lava flow, trailing fire in their wake, the blistered skin they leave behind spelling out her name and marking Nicole as her own.

Waverly locks eyes with her when she reaches the collar of her shirt, spreading it open wider, and Nicole can see the same fire there. Glowing embers burning with need, and the heat envelops them, consuming them both. 

She can’t stay  _ still _ any longer.  No matter how badly she wants to.  No matter how hard she tries.

Running her hands down along Waverly’s sides, she grabs the tops of her thighs and easily hoists her up.  Waverly locks her legs around Nicole’s waist and slides her hands behind her neck.  A soft laugh bubbles up in Nicole’s chest, a release of the pressure and the tension and the nerves, and it escapes, joyous and free, as she carries Waverly toward the bed.

She lowers Waverly onto the mattress as carefully as she can, and it’s a wonder they don’t just tumble on it in a messy heap. A veritable storm whips her insides up to a frenzy, and the butterflies within her stomach are ripped to shreds by the rapid gallop of her heart. 

In the clear light of the morning filtering through the gossamer-like curtains Waverly picked out for the new room, the younger Earp looks diaphanous. Angelic almost. 

Her hair fans out in waves across the pillows and her eyes seem to absorb the light, their warm hazel transcending to the deep green of the forests around the Homestead.

Nicole can almost see herself mirrored in the brunette’s blown pupils and they are black depths that pull her under. She goes gladly, her nervousness slowly ebbing away as their fingers tangle together, Waverly pulling her more firmly into her arms. 

“Wait.” Waverly says suddenly, squirming under her. 

Nicole immediately lifts up, concern creasing her brow. She wants Waverly - desperately so - but not if her girlfriend isn’t ready. 

“We can…” A press of slim fingers to her lips and she finds herself silenced.

“It’s not that,” Waverly’s hand cups her cheek lovingly, “but the bed is me-sized. Let me scoot back a bit? I don’t want you to fall off or something.”

They fall over each other in a fit of giggles at the thought, and Nicole is glad for the small reprieve even though they have not really started anything just yet. 

She loves to hear Waverly laugh; it’s the joyous bubble of a waterfall in summer, and God knows the house they’re in could use to soak up some. 

Even redecorated in Waverly’s own style, the room still smells like tragedy, and she knows it’ll be some time before the aura really fades away. 

Nicole watches her girlfriend toss some off the pillows on the floor to make room for the two of them and thinks perhaps today they can start making some new memories to hang up on the cracked plaster of the walls. 

Not better ones, but lighter perhaps. 

Another pillow hits the floor by her feet with a soft thump and suddenly ribbons of guilt slither through her chest, wrapping themselves around her wildly beating heart. 

She doesn’t want things to be like this for Waverly.  Doesn’t want her to feel like she has to shove things into the floor, into the corner, into the void just to make room for Nicole in her life. 

She has so much going on right now. 

With her sister – with  _ both _ of them – and what they’d all had to do to each other.  With Black Badge and how they were  _ literally _ holding her under the gun.  With her identity and what it might mean for her if she finds out she’s  _ not _ an Earp.

And Nicole doesn’t want to become just another thing that is forcing her to displace parts of her life in order to create space.

“Waverly…”  Her voice cracks on the word, nerves and guilt and the lust that’s still burning through her.

Waverly freezes, a deer in the headlights.  Waiting for the impact.  The rejection.

“You don’t have to do that,” Nicole says gently and scoops the armful of pillows up off the floor.  Waverly starts to protest but Nicole leans forward and presses their lips together, soft and quick and chaste. 

A promise of what’s to come. 

“Look,” she says, so close they’re still breathing the same air, making her head spin as she deposits the pillows against the wall behind Waverly.  “If we just rearrange things a little, there can still be room for them.”

The silent  _ ‘and me’ _ hangs in the air between them.

When Nicole turns back to her after carefully placing the pillows on the corner of the bed, the air rushes from her lungs when she discovers that Waverly has shrugged out of her shirt and is discarding it on the floor.

They’ve been here before.  Once.  In the barn.  When they got lost in each other for a brief moment before the world was ending.  But watching Waverly’s heaving chest rise and fall as her nerves go to war with her desire to be bold, knowing that this time is  _ different _ , has Nicole’s own heart hammering in her chest with such force she wonders if Waverly can actually hear it.

When Waverly starts to reach behind her, Nicole barely has the presence of mind to reach out and catch her wrist gently between her fingers.  She brings Waverly’s hand to her mouth and places a tender kiss on her palm to ease Waverly’s fear, murmuring a question against her soft skin.

“Let me?”

Waverly’s fingers caress her cheek reflexively and she swallows a few times before nodding, allowing Nicole to slide her hands down her arms and around her ribs and under the clasp resting against her back.  When her bra falls away, landing in her lap, Waverly chews on her lip and ducks her head, hiding the blush that is spreading like flames from the fire in her chest.

“Hey,” Nicole says quietly, her voice a soothing balm as she slides a finger under Waverly’s chin and lifts it until she’s looking into her eyes.  “You’re beautiful,” she breathes, bringing their lips together again.

It’s soft at first.  Tentative.  But then her tongue brushes along Waverly’s lip and Waverly meets it with her own, reaching out to tug Nicole’s shirt down from where it’s been hanging loosely on her shoulders.  There’s a noise in her throat when her bra follows quickly behind, and then she’s leaning forward, wrapping her arms around Waverly and pulling her close.

She carefully lowers Waverly into the nest of pillows she created, and for a moment, time stops.  Everything that’s been going on around them –  _ between _ them – grinds to a halt, and it’s just the two of them, safe and warm in this cocoon, lost in a kiss with their bodies pressed together.

Then she feels Waverly shift under her, barely a fraction, but enough that the girl’s thigh presses up between her own. The tiniest sob takes flight from within Nicole’s chest as her lungs come to a halt. She short circuits, electricity blazing up and down her spinal cord until she goes up in a puff of smoke like a burned-out fuse. 

Her mouth opens against Waverly’s and she becomes a vessel, the only thing keeping her alive the press of soft lips against her own, the shallow breaths leaving the brunette’s mouth to spiral down her throat and fill her lungs with stolen air that tastes intimately of future and possibility.

Nicole is a broken mechanism, a machine which has forgotten what algorithms run through its systems. Her mind is abuzz with the feeling of Waverly’s breasts brushing against her own, and the brunette’s hands on her hips are the one thing keeping her anchored.

Ever so slowly the storm inside her quietens and she melts into the kiss, reveling in the feeling of Waverly’s tongue hesitantly swiping against her own. 

They explore each other carefully, conscious that this kiss heralds the start of something other. Nicole is glad that they have time, the entirety of the day stretching before them. Waiting to be filled with tender touches and soft moans, the subtle whispering of fingers against heated flesh. 

She cannot help but buck her hips a little when Waverly’s teeth graze her lower lip, the brunette’s mouth latching onto it and sucking as their kiss catches fire, like aged wood during a drought. 

The seam of her jeans rubs against her heated core, and Nicole thinks she may as well not have bothered with underwear. It’s ruined anyway, growing stickier and wetter with the friction. 

When she breaks away from the kiss her lungs are burning and her vision swims a little, eyes stinging with the sweat pouring down from her hairline. 

Her lip hurts - a little bruised from where Waverly bit a tad too enthusiastically - and when she carefully tongues it, Nicole can taste the copper of her own blood. 

“Oh my God, Nic! I’m so sorry!” Waverly looks almost horrified, hands rising to cradle her face.

Nicole pushes up onto her knees and then rests back against her heels.  She can see Waverly’s lip beginning to quiver and it twists her insides in return.  She covers Waverly’s hands to keep them in place against her flushed cheeks and lets her voice calm her panicking girlfriend.

“It’s nothing,” she says quietly, letting her thumbs stroke over the backs of Waverly’s hands.  “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“B-but…  your lip…” Waverly’s voice is small, her eyes shimmering.  “I didn’t mean t—”

“Shhhhh...  Baby, it’s okay,” Nicole interrupts.  “It happens sometimes,” she adds with a soft smile.

She doesn’t look convinced, so Nicole pulls Waverly’s right hand off of her cheek, lacing their fingers together and letting them trail down her neck and bare chest until Waverly’s palm is resting over her heart.  Then she releases her other hand, mirroring the action and placing the palm of her right hand on Waverly’s heart.

There’s so many things she wants to say.  A swelling tide of feelings she wishes she could confess.  But if she lets the current pull them under now, it might drown them both before they’re ready.  So she holds it back and prays the levee won’t break and bring the flood, instead trying to find words that will reinforce the barrier.

“We’re just getting started, Wave,” she murmurs.  “Do you feel that?” she asks, gently squeezing Waverly’s hand on her heart.  Waverly nods, lips parted with rapid, shallow breaths.  “It’s beating for you, baby, and that’s all that matters.  We might stumble a few times while we learn each other, but it’s the imperfections that make it perfect.”

Waverly stares at her silently for a long moment, and then surprises them both with a little snort that makes Nicole’s brow furrow.

“Perfect imperfections?” she asks with a raised eyebrow and Nicole frowns.  “Are you quoting John Legend lyrics to me?  In  _ bed?” _  A smirk tugs at the corners of Waverly’s mouth.   _ “Smooth _ , Officer Haught.”

Nicole gapes at her for a few seconds, but then Waverly can’t contain herself any longer, bursting into giggles, and Nicole can feel the apprehension bleeding out of the body beneath her.  She gives a sheepish shrug and grins broadly down at Waverly, her dimples on full display. 

She’s glad for the break in the tension, but watching the muscles in Waverly’s neck and chest and abdomen ripple with her laughter suddenly reignites the arousal that’s been coursing through Nicole’s veins.  She lets her fingertips drift away from the heart that’s racing beneath them, trailing them gently over the swell of Waverly’s breast, and her girlfriend’s laughter dies in her throat, morphing into a strangled gasp as her thumb brushes over the stiff peak of her nipple.

“Is this alright?” Nicole feels the pebbling of the small bud against her fingertips, she sees Waverly’s back arch a little off the bed at the friction. Still, because everything is new between them, and fragile like a sheet of ice over a lake, she feels the need to ask. 

Waverly swallows hard, cheeks on fire and lips parted as a hoarse sound of affirmation climbs from her throat. 

Nicole completely understands when all the brunette can do is nod. A simple question has left her mouth dried and her throat parched, but she is flooding in other yet uncovered places.

There’s just enough room between the wall and Waverly’s slim form for her to lay down on her side, her hand never leaving her girlfriend's chest as she trails intricate patterns across her breasts.

Waverly presses into her with a small shiver, and Nicole nuzzles along her jawline, lips following the column of her girlfriend’s neck down to her collarbone, where she leaves a smattering of sloppy open-mouthed kisses. 

Waverly’s skin is silky under her lips, tasting lightly of sweat and the chamomile-based soap the brunette likes so much. When she comes to a stop over her girlfriend’s heart, right where her hand has been moments ago, Nicole imagines she can almost feel its beat on the tip of her tongue. 

The silence around them is almost too loud with the rushing of her own blood inside her ears, and she wonders if Waverly hears the same crashing noise, like the heralding of some natural disaster about to break loose and sweep them out to sea. 

Her hand cups the brunette’s breast more firmly, palm scraping against the hardened nipple. Nicole resists the urge to pinch and roll it between her eager fingertips, inching her mouth towards it instead. 

There’s a sharp intake of breath from above and she falters in her descent, flicking her gaze up to meet Waverly’s. An unseen draft chooses that exact moment to toy with the room’s curtains, and in the flickering shadow that extends across Waverly’s face, the color of her irises darkens further reminding Nicole of how firs can appear an almost blackish green under fresh snow. 

Nicole’s breath is throttled out of her at the sight, the brunette appearing like a spirit one may chance upon when wandering the woods. The hint of cheekbones pushing against skin and the flakes of autumn colors trapped within her hair speak of mystery and the savage beauty of undiscovered lands. 

Then Waverly blinks, her eyes thawing back to mellow hazel and the spell is shattered - Nicole an explorer no longer, but a simple woman lying in the arms of the one she knows she loves.

She lowers her head once again, finally claiming her prize.  Waverly arches her back, pushing into her as she drags the flat of her tongue over the puckered flesh.  She feels Waverly’s hand clamp down on her own where it’s still palming her other breast, and her other hand tugs at the tie in Nicole’s hair until she’s wreathed in fire, the flames tickling Waverly’s skin.

When Nicole begins to alternate between licking and gently sucking Waverly’s nipple, her fingers thread through Nicole’s hair and flex against her scalp.  She kisses across the valley of Waverly’s breasts with the intent of giving the same attention to her other one when suddenly Waverly yelps and flinches beneath her.

Nicole immediately pulls back, both of her hands leaving Waverly’s chest.  “I’m sorry!  Did I—”

“Your belt,” Waverly interrupts.

“…What?”  Nicole struggles to get herself under control again, waiting for her hormone-addled brain to catch up.

“Your belt,” Waverly says again.  “It’s cold,” she adds, splaying a hand across her belly.

“Oh.”  Nicole looks down at her belt and then back up at Waverly again.   _ “Oh,” _ she says with a smirk.  “Would you…  like to do something about that?”

“Yes,” Waverly breathes and reaches out a tentative hand.  She hesitates until Nicole swallows and nods at her.  She begins to tug it open and Nicole has to bite her lip to keep from moaning at the mere act itself.

Once her belt, button, and zipper are all undone, Waverly’s hands rest on her hips, her fingers playing along the waistband.  She peeks up through her lashes at Nicole and, while they look into each other’s eyes, she begins to tug the jeans down along Nicole’s thighs.

She gasps when she realizes Nicole’s underwear are accidentally coming down with them, and she moves to withdraw her hands quickly, but Nicole’s hands cover them and keep them in place.

“It’s okay, Wave,” she murmurs.  “You can keep going.  If it’s what you want.”

Waverly gives a shaky nod and continues peeling them down as far as she can with Nicole still on her knees.  She shifts so that she’s sitting between Waverly’s legs and toes off her shoes before kicking her jeans and underwear the rest of the way off.

Nicole knows this is a dance she’s going to have to lead in many ways, but there are still a few of the dance steps that Waverly needs to lead herself.  So she doesn’t make any sudden movements, and instead she just sits where she is, with her hand resting on Waverly’s thigh, and waits.

After a few minutes of shallow breathing, Waverly eventually guides Nicole’s hand higher up, until she reaches the zipper on the side of her skirt.

“Would you?” Waverly asks, her voice shaky.

She licks her lips in that nervous habit she has and leans forward to press a single kiss to Waverly’s stomach before pulling the zipper down.  She waits again, another step for her dance partner to lead, until Waverly takes her hands and tucks her fingers inside the waistband of both her skirt and her panties.

When she lifts her hips off of the mattress slightly, Nicole takes that as the permission she needs to draw the garments down Waverly’s trembling legs.

Nicole can barely breathe, the air suddenly thin as they stand together at the top of this mountain they’ve been climbing for the past several weeks, on the precipice of something new and exciting and  _ real _ .  She slowly lowers herself, giving Waverly plenty of opportunity to stop her, until she’s resting in the cradle of Waverly’s hips, and they kiss again, long and slow and deep, no more barriers left between them.

Waverly’s hands come to rest on her back, tracing the edges of her shoulder blades, ghosting down her spine, and Nicole shivers. She moans softly into their kiss, breasts pressing into Waverly’s, their bodies molded together like perfect pieces of a puzzle.

At some point they have to break away, gasping for breath like two women on the brink of drowning. 

Waverly shifts, hips canting upwards and Nicole feels herself grow slick with the friction of the brunette’s mound against her own. She figures that her cheeks must be the same color of her hair and lets fly a little groan, burying her face in the damp crook of Waverly’s neck. 

Nicole has slept with her fair share of women, she’s had a few partners that were more than just a passing fling, and yet she’s nervous as if this was  _ her _ first time.

She closes her eyes for a moment and inhales deeply, allowing the light scent of Waverly’s skin to curl inside her lungs. When she lifts her head, heartbeat slowed to a less frantic pace, her girlfriend is watching her intently, a slight frown cutting a line between her eyebrows.

“I just… am a bit overwhelmed,” Nicole says, answering the unspoken question hanging between them. 

Waverly nods, chewing her own lower lip like she does when she’s thinking hard about something. 

“I am, too,” she admits finally, blushing hard and nuzzling Nicole’s cheek. “I’ve wanted this so badly and now I’m so scared because you know I’ve never...never…” 

She trails off and tries to look away, but Nicole leans forward filling her space before she can. She catches Waverly’s lips with her own, sighing softly against her mouth as they kiss again. 

“There is no right or wrong way to go at things, Wave,” she murmurs, placing another kiss at the corner of the brunette’s mouth. 

“Would you...show me?” Waverly moves again and all of a sudden Nicole finds herself straddling her girlfriend’s thigh, all of her blood rushing south with the change of position. 

“I mean,” Waverly continues, a playful smile dawning on her lips, “I know a thing or two,” her thigh presses more firmly between Nicole’s legs and she gasps, muscles turning to water, “but practice makes perfect.”

Nicole can tell that underneath the teasing Waverly is as nervous as she is, if not more, but the brunette is trying to be brave and show her that the desire burning her nerve endings to cinders is mutual. 

She brings her own thigh up to push against Waverly’s mound and the smirk dissolves into an open mouthed gasp. The moan that follows, she swallows eagerly, pressing Waverly into another heated kiss. 

They start to move against each other as they fall from one kiss into the next, their hips rocking erratically at first, until they find a slow and easy rhythm that leaves them shaking every time their bodies collide. 

Their kisses become sloppier as Waverly’s head tilts farther back against the pillow, the column of her throat working as her soft moans fill the space between them.  Nicole gives up on trying to keep their mouths aligned as they move together.

“You feel so good,” she whispers in Waverly’s ear, breathless, before trailing kisses down her jaw, her neck, her shoulder.  Her mouth is hot on Waverly’s skin, all lips and teeth and tongue as she works her way lower.

Waverly shudders beneath her and Nicole can feel it in her own chest, radiating out to the places where they’re joined.  They continue to glide against each other, slick and smooth and sensual, and Waverly clutches at her back, her shoulders, her hair when she takes a nipple between her lips again.

Nicole can feel her limbs beginning to tingle and she groans against Waverly’s breast.  They haven’t even really gotten started yet, and she’s already teetering on the edge.  The heat that’s building low in her belly spreads to her face when she realizes just how close she is.  Waverly still has her head thrown back, lost in the roll of her hips against Nicole’s, and Nicole isn’t ready for that to end.

Shifting so that she’s no longer straddling Waverly’s leg, she pulls back to begin kissing lower down her stomach instead.  Waverly makes a small strangled noise, her eyes flying open at the disruption of their movements, but Nicole immediately plants her knee into the mattress more firmly, pressing back harder into Waverly and the whimper becomes a groan as she begins to rock again.

She feels like her heart is no longer in her chest, pounding elsewhere instead in protest to the interruption, but she forces herself to ignore the ache, choosing to focus on running her tongue along the dips between the muscles of Waverly’s abdomen. 

The fingers in her hair tighten when her teeth find the soft flesh just beneath Waverly’s hipbone.  So much of her girlfriend’s skin is often on display, between the low-cut necklines and the crop tops and the short skirts.  But this spot is more intimate.  Something only  _ she _ is allowed to see, and Nicole can’t help the low rumble in her throat when she latches onto it.

She sucks on the tender skin and Waverly squirms beneath her, mewling, when Nicole lets her teeth just barely graze before soothing with her tongue, leaving a purple mark blooming just beneath the surface.

Waverly’s movements are more erratic now, painting Nicole’s thigh with her heat, and Nicole can’t help herself any longer.  She pulls her knee away and has to use both hands to hold Waverly’s hips down against the mattress while she shifts further down the bed.  It’s far too small and her legs are folded at an awkward angle, but when Waverly chokes out a sob that may or may not have been Nicole’s name, she can think of nothing more than taking care of the woman she loves.

“Shhhh, baby.  It’s okay.  I’ve got you,” she murmurs as she runs a soothing hand over Waverly’s belly and finally dips her head.

A brush of her lips against Waverly’s mound is all it takes for the brunette’s fingers to tangle more firmly in her hair. Her girlfriend doesn’t push her down or scratch at her scalp, but Nicole understands the silent plea hidden behind the flexing of the girl’s hand. 

She takes a first, slow sweep with her tongue and all she can do is keep herself from crying out as Waverly’s taste spreads inside her mouth. It’s sweet like springwater after a long day spent working in the sun, with just the barest hint of salt beneath. Waverly’s hips buck and her legs fall even more enticingly open, an invitation that Nicole cannot refuse. 

Nicole brings her hands under her lover, gently cupping her ass to help the rocking of her hips, her tongue unfurling against Waverly’s heat.  

There is a moment in which Waverly stops breathing, her body as tense as a bowstring beneath Nicole’s mouth. The the brunette lets loose something stuck halfway between a sob and a gasp and her hips slowly begin to pump against Nicole’s tongue, so much arousal flooding out of her that Nicole feels it drip past the corner of her lips and down her chin. 

She swipes her tongue between Waverly’s glistening folds with ever increasing pressure, but stops short of her girlfriend’s clit in the most tender form or torture. She can almost feel its beat ripple along her bones, and only gives in with a soft smile when Waverly’s self-control crumbles, her hand pleadingly pulling at a fistful of her hair.

The swollen nub of flesh quivers under Nicole’s lips, and when she swirls her tongue around it, Waverly’s panting morphs into hoarse moans. She thinks there are words lost somewhere among the need, but the ache between her own legs proves too much of a distraction, preventing her from looking for them. 

Nicole latches onto Waverly’s clit as gently as she can and begins to suck on it softly, her own hips pressing into the mattress when instinct takes over. She stops every few moments, lapping at the heated flesh carefully and relishing the way Waverly’s hand now cards through her hair desperately, her other hand finding purchase around Nicole’s shoulder, nails leaving trails of scarlet on her pale skin. 

Waverly is close.

Nicole can tell by the way her muscles are trembling and her hips are stuttering and her thighs are tightening around her shoulders.

_ So close _ .

She lets her tongue continue to work while she slowly draws one of her hands out from beneath Waverly and gently massages up her inner thigh.  As much as she never wants this to end, she knows Waverly is teetering right on the edge.  And she  _ also _ knows how she’d like to usher her over the threshold. 

But this is Waverly’s first time, and Nicole doesn’t want to do anything that might be too much for her.  So when her fingers reach the silky heat, she keeps her touch light and tentative as she begins to explore.

The rhythmic bucking of Waverly’s hips immediately ceases and there’s a brief moment when the only movement between them is Nicole’s lips and tongue, but then Waverly begins to shift restlessly.  Nicole pulls her fingers back in an instant, cursing herself for crossing a line that has clearly made Waverly uncomfortable.  She tries to lift her head to apologize, but the death grip Waverly has on her hair keeps her in place.

Instead, she looks up, her gaze traveling the landscape of Waverly’s body until she locks eyes with her girlfriend.  But she doesn’t find distress.  No fear.  No panic.  Just need and desperation and  _ pleading _ .

Waverly is  _ pleading _ with her.

She hesitates, the rapid beats of their hearts ticking the time away, and then slowly, carefully, she slides her fingers up from Waverly’s thigh again, letting them gently dip back into Waverly’s folds.

Waverly moans as Nicole continues to lick and suck while her fingertips stroke Waverly’s sensitive flesh, and she reaches out with the hand that was digging into Nicole’s shoulder.  Nicole pulls her other hand out from under Waverly and takes it in her own, allowing Waverly to ground herself as their fingers automatically lace together.

She goes silent and still when Nicole’s fingers trail lower and stall, just barely pressing, but not actually going anywhere.  They’re still looking at each other, and Waverly tries to speak, but all that comes out is a wordless croak.  Instead, she gives a shaky nod and squeezes Nicole’s hand and manages to whisper a single word.

_ “Please.” _

Holding her gaze, Nicole slowly pushes one finger inside her, and the noise that she makes alone is nearly enough to send Nicole hurtling over the edge herself.  The velvety heat clings to her, already quivering around her finger, and when she draws back, she adds a second finger then she pushes in again.

She sets an agonizingly slow, deliberate pace that sharply contrasts the desperate grinding of Waverly’s hips against her chin.  Nicole curls her fingers forward, massaging the swollen spot just inside with every thrust, and she feels Waverly’s inner walls begin to ripple, her clit twitching beneath her tongue.

Waverly goes completely rigid, the two of them frozen in a moment, suspended together for an eternity, and then her hips give a sharp jerk as she cries out.  Nicole eases up with her tongue, using broad, soothing strokes instead of firm, persistent flicks, but she keeps her thrusts long and determined, no matter how hard Waverly bucks against her.

She rocks and shudders, moans and sobs, but even though her head has fallen back against the pillow with her eyes squeezed shut, she never lets go of Nicole’s hand.  When she finally begins to still, her body relaxed and boneless, Nicole gently withdraws, subtly wiping her hand on the blanket as she eases her way back up Waverly’s body to kiss away the soft whimper at the loss of her touch.

Waverly seeks her mouth like a thirsty man does water, and Nicole allows herself to be fiercely kissed. She burns up under the silken feel of Waverly’s lips, cheeks flushed to the point she starts to feel feverish and lightheaded. 

When the brunette tries to disentangle their hands however, NIcole resists, thumb gliding soothingly across her knuckles. 

“Wait,” she murmurs, the pitch of her voice so grainy it feels as if she is speaking through a mouthful of fine sand, “just let me hold you a little.”

She laughs softly at the disgruntled pout that tugs at the brunette’s lips, and prepares herself to hold Waverly still against her, but the girl relents and settles down with her head resting on Nicole’s shoulder and a leg flung across her own for good measure. 

Nicole can’t properly explain why, but she needs a moment to lose herself in the heaving of Waverly’s chest against her body and the feel of her slick painting lines of fire along her hip. 

The ache between her own legs is almost unbearable, and she can feel her arousal slowly drip down her inner thighs, but she pushes her need to the back of her mind, finding comfort in the way Waverly drapes an arm across her belly to pull her as close as possible. 

They stay like that for a while, Nicole pulling a blanket over them when she feels Waverly shiver against her. 

She kisses the brunette’s forehead, her hand rubbing circles on Waverly’s back whenever aftershocks ripple down her limbs and hums softly, goosebumps pebbling her skin as her lover’s lips ghost down her neck. 

“You can sleep some if you’d like,” she suggests, eyes roaming Waverly’s face fondly.  “I can wait.” Her walls clench in disagreement. 

Waverly raises her head and their eyes meet. Hers are still clouded by pleasure, heavy lidded and sleepy, yet Nicole can read a hint of stubborness within them. 

“No! I want to! It’s just…what if...” She trails off with a blush and looks away, fingers nervously toying with the edge of the blanket. 

_ What if I am not good enough? What if you don’t like what I do? _

Waverly doesn’t say the words out loud, but Nicole hears them anyway. She reaches out to cup her chin and plant a soft kiss on her lips, pulling back only when Waverly allows her to guide her back into the safety of her arms.

“It’s alright.” She entwines their fingers again and gives a reassuring squeeze “Just do what feels natural to you. And if you don’t feel ready, that’s ok, too.” 

She feels Waverly nod against her shoulder, right before the brunette bends her head, mouth leaving fiery brands along the column of Nicole’s neck.

This time, when Waverly’s hand leaves her own, Nicole does not resist, gasping when fingers follow the curve of her breasts. She’s grown warm under the blanket, so when Waverly pulls it off of them her nipples harden almost painfully in the cool air of the room. 

Her gasps turn into a moan at the first brush of Waverly’s fingers against one puckered bud, then she hisses, in surprise more than pain, when the brunette pinches her nipple experimentally. 

NIcole swallows Waverly’s panicked apologies within a heated kiss, legs tossing restlessly against the mattress, arousal pooling beneath her and dampening the sheets. 

The sting radiating from her breast travels outward and she moans into the brunette’s mouth with abandon, one of her hands rising to cup the back of Waverly’s head and keep her close. 

Nicole couldn’t speak if she wanted to, but she hopes that her gesture is enough to let Waverly know she’s doing okay. 

More than okay, in fact. 

They’ve spent quite a bit of time this afternoon naked, with their bodies pressed together.  Kissing.  Grinding.  Cuddling.  But this is the first time that Waverly has allowed her hands to wander and explore.  And Nicole refuses to make her feel any pressure or obligation.  She’s determined not make her feel rushed.

So she beats her raging need into submission, and with great effort, she manages to settle against the mattress, forcing herself once again to remain  _ still _ . 

_ For Waverly _ .

But that doesn’t mean she can stop the groan that rumbles in her chest when Waverly begins to kiss down her neck, occasionally letting her teeth graze against her throat and her shoulder and her collarbone.  Soon her mouth latches onto the sensitive nipple while her cold fingers dance across Nicole’s flushed skin, moving to palm her other breast.

Nicole gets lost in the moment.  In the sensation of Waverly’s mouth.  Of her fingers.  In the effort it takes to concentrate on keeping her hips from bucking against the empty air.

It isn’t until she feels Waverly’s hair tickling her stomach that she realizes what is happening.  Waverly has been subtly moving down her body while her fingers continued to play with her nipples, and she’s almost reached her destination.

As much as Nicole would love for this to happen, it’s a big step.  Especially for someone who’s never done anything like this before.  She knows Waverly is going to be a bit nervous, no matter  _ what _ happens next, and it’s important to Nicole that she can help her through it.  That she can reassure her.  Keep her tethered to the moment so that she won’t get lost adrift a sea of emotions.

She can’t exactly do that if Waverly’s head is buried between her thighs.

“W-Waverly…”  Nicole’s tongue is thick in her mouth.  Her voice raw with arousal.  Waverly is still kissing a trail below her navel, and isn’t slowing down.  “Wave.  Baby.  Wait…”

She shifts, clenching her thighs together and drawing her knees up a little in order to stop Waverly’s descent.  Waverly pushes up on her knees, her hands immediately leaving Nicole’s body and falling into her lap.

“Was I not…”  Her voice cracks and she tries to swallow around the lump in her throat.  One hand stays in her lap and her other hand instinctively moves to grab at her shoulder, subconsciously covering her chest with her arm.  “Did it…  Do you not want me to?”

The hurt in Waverly’s voice is devastating, reaching out and squeezing Nicole’s heart so tightly she can’t breathe.

“Wave,” she says gently, pushing up on her elbows in a show of moving closer, but without crowding Waverly in the process.  There’s a delicate line she has to walk, and one misstep will shatter this fragile thing between them. 

“I just thought…”  Waverly’s lip is trembling now.  “I mean, you did it for me.”

“Hey.”  Nicole sits up fully now, drawing Waverly into her arms.  She kisses her on the forehead and tilts her chin up until she can look in her eyes.  “Listen, baby.  I need you to understand something for me.” 

Waverly’s eyes are a hurricane of fear and confusion and insecurity, and Nicole presses a chaste kiss to her lips before continuing. 

“First of all, you don’t  _ ever _ have to do something just because I did.  Not now.  Not ever.”  She waits until Waverly gives her a small nod, and then allows her to tuck her face against her neck.  “And second,” she says, softer now as her fingers trace patterns along Waverly’s spine.  “I just…  I kind of wanted you to stay up here.  With me.”  Waverly cranes her neck to look up at Nicole.  “So that I could kiss you.  When you…”  She can feel a blush creeping up from her chest to stain her cheeks and paint the tips of her ears.  “When you touch me.”

Waverly squirms in her lap, and Nicole loosens her hold, allowing her to pull away if she wishes.

“But only if you  _ want _ to touch me,” she hastens to add.  “You don’t—” she clears her throat, trying to chase the rasp out of her voice, “you don’t  _ have _ to do  _ anything, _ Waverly.  I’m okay just holdi—”

“Nicole.”  Waverly cuts her off with a finger pressed gently to her lips.  “I  _ want _ to touch you,” she says with a shy smile.

“Yeah?” Nicole breathes, concern etching deep creases in her brow.

“Yeah,” Waverly whispers, tracing a finger along the lines, smoothing them away.  She tilts her face up and Nicole lowers her head to meet her in a tentative kiss.

It starts out tender, but quickly deepens as Waverly slips her tongue into Nicole’s mouth with a soft moan.  Nicole carefully eases back again, lowering Waverly down with her, still holding her in her arms while they continue to kiss.  Waverly settles herself on top of Nicole, her weight comforting as it presses Nicole down into the nest of pillows, but her touch ignites every inch of Nicole’s body as Waverly begins to slip her hand down between them. 

Time slows to a crawl, or perhaps it’s Waverly’s hand moving with the ponderous slowness of molasses dripping from a spoon. Nicole’s chest heaves as she desperately gulps in air that fails to reach her lungs, and her back arches off the mattress when Waverly firmly cups her breast. 

Her moans grow louder and full of need, but Waverly keeps kissing her, devouring every sound she makes. 

When her hand slides lower, palming the quivering valley of Nicole’s abdomen, she lets her legs fall wide apart. 

Waiting, wishing,  _ wanting _ to urge Waverly to pick up her pace. 

Instead, Nicole holds  _ still _ .

She isn’t the one leading their dance now, rather she’s letting Waverly guide her through a set of new paces neither of them know. And Nicole can tell with every touch of her girlfriend's hand - fingers straying closer and closer to their goal - that Waverly’s confidence is growing.

It’s apparent with every new swipe of her lover’s tongue against her own, each pulling of Nicole’s lower lip between Waverly’s teeth. Nicole gladly surrenders beneath the onslaught, but when Waverly’s fingers finally brush against her drenched folds - agonizingly slow - she can’t help but buck her hips and break away from their kiss, Waverly’s name like an invocation falling from her lips. 

“Is this good?” Waverly asks against her lips, her other hand squeezing Nicole’s shoulder gently and easing her back down into the bed.

“So...ohhhh...” The brunette’s fingers part her folds in careful exploration and Nicole almost chokes on her reply, all blood rushing south and leaving her brain floundering. “So good, baby.” 

Afterwards, she has no more capacity for words or thought, simply allowing Waverly to reclaim her mouth as her fingers slowly map every soaked inch of her sex. When the brunette’s fingertips skirt around her clit, Nicole whimpers and sucks on her lover’s tongue in a show of appreciation, her hips angling upward to offer Waverly a better angle. 

Her girlfriend shifts, moving to straddle one of her thighs, and when Nicole feels Waverly’s slick painting her skin, her whole body grows electric.

The first touch of Waverly’s fingers against her clit is a trembling, passing thing, but Nicole’s body responds, hips jerking wildly. Heat boils over from her core and shoots up her spine, searing her bones until only blackened stumps remain, and every time she breathes it’s like drinking burning gasoline. 

When Waverly touches her again, it’s no longer fleeting, instead broad, circular strokes that make every nerve in Nicole’s body feel alive.  Her heels dig into the mattress, giving her leverage to push up into Waverly’s hand, but when she whimpers, Waverly’s rhythm falters.

“I don’t know what to do,” Waverly hesitates, and Nicole forces her eyes open to find her chewing on her lip.

She has a death grip on the blanket in a herculean effort to keep her body under control, and it’s all she can do to cut through the fog and form actual words.

“Oh, sure you do.”

Her voice is strangled, foreign in her own ears, but it still causes Waverly to huff out a shaky breath, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly.  Their world has been in a constant state of change, but it seems that some things still remain the same.

“Just please don’t stop,” Nicole pleads hoarsely, pumping her hips once for emphasis.  Waverly’s fingers slide through her heat again with the movement, causing Nicole to groan and drop her head back onto the pillows, grasping even more tightly at the blanket.

Waverly leans in close and takes Nicole’s open mouth in a kiss as she dips her fingers down to gather wetness before resuming her stroking of Nicole’s clit from before.  She swallows a deep, throaty moan and it bolsters her courage.  She kisses down along Nicole’s jaw until reaching her ear, gently nibbling on the lobe before licking up the shell.

“Show me what you like, baby,” she murmurs seductively, feeling Nicole shiver beneath her as her breath ghosts across her ear.

Nicole turns her face toward Waverly’s, kissing her again as she pries her fingers loose from the blanket.  One hand slides up Waverly’s thigh and comes to rest on her hip while the other strokes down the flexing muscles of her forearm until her fingers loosely circle Waverly’s wrist.

She pulls back slightly to look Waverly in the eye and there’s a moment of hesitation, just long enough for a whispered  _ yeah? _ and a breathy  _ yeah _ in return, and then she rests their foreheads together as she guides Waverly’s hand down until her fingers begin to slip inside her.

With a careful roll of her hips and the slightest bit of pressure from the hand still clutching Waverly’s wrist, she takes Waverly’s fingers fully inside her with a gasp, her breath trapped between them as she loses herself completely in the desire swirling in Waverly’s eyes.

Waverly begins to thrust her fingers, meeting each roll of Nicole’s hips, and with the last remaining threads of her control, Nicole angles Waverly’s hand to press the heel of her palm against her clit.  When Waverly takes the cue to grind down with the rhythm of their movements, Nicole’s hand slides back up her arm, over her shoulder, and threads its way into Waverly’s hair.

She squeezes her eyes shut, cupping the back of Waverly’s head to keep her close while she rides the sensation of Waverly’s fingers twisting inside her with each thrust.

She’s close.

_ So close _ .

When she can’t hold back the rising tide any longer, her body tightens, her muscles going rigid and the tendons in her neck pulling taut as she clamps down around Waverly’s fingers.

And then the waves are crashing through her, her entire body shuddering as Waverly’s name falls from her lips.

Nicole shatters into a thousand pieces. She breaks like foamy chaff upon a shore, the hurricane within her almost shaking her soul loose. 

Her eyes are screwed tightly shut, but still stars of a searing, blinding white are born behind her eyelids. Waverly’s fingers thrusting deep and slow inside her are the only thing keeping her from dissolving in the air - a mirage evaporating in the desert’s heat. 

Waverly’s other hand skates across her cheek and she instinctively turns her face into the touch, nuzzling softly into her girlfriend’s flesh. The brunette’s palm is damp with sweat, but as Waverly presses it more firmly against her cheekbone Nicole’s heart slows, its pace gradually going back to normal. 

When the brunette’s fingers still inside her, Nicole’s sex flutters one last time and she comes again, a small whimper climbing out her throat. A tension that had knotted her insides suddenly unravels and she lets out a surprised gasp. 

Nicole’s eyes fly open and she lets go of Waverly’s hip, struggling to lift up on an elbow, but her muscles are quivering like jello and she only makes it halfway to a sitting position before her arm gives out and she spills back onto the bed.

She groans, throwing an arm over her eyes, hips rising into empty air as aftershocks rip through her. She wants to moan, to cry out, to chant Waverly’s name over and over again, but all moisture has fled her mouth and migrated south. 

The brunette’s hands come to rest on her sides, fingers stroking gentle circles on Nicole’s heated skin, and she wraps her arms around her lover, nails scratching lightly down Waverly’s spine. Nicole would stop time right in this moment if she could - not forever of course - but long enough for them to gather the peace they have found within each other, before heading out and facing the craziness that always seems to gather in Purgatory, guns blazing.

“That was...it was…” Nicole wets her cracked lips, shaking her head in amazement, her body still tingling all over from her release.

“Well, I hope it was at least okay,” Waverly murmurs shyly, pushing strands of damp hair back from Nicole’s forehead. 

“More than okay.”  Nicole nuzzles along her lover’s jawline, peppering small kisses on every inch of her skin she can reach.  “Amazing.” 

“Well, in that case, perhaps we should go for round two,” Waverly’s smirk is ruined by a jaw-splitting yawn, “after we have grabbed a little shut-eye?” 

“A nap sounds like a wonderful idea.” Nicole agrees, hand moving around the unmade bed until she finds the edge of the comforter. With a tug, she pulls it over their naked bodies, Waverly settling down against her, head resting on her shoulder.  

 

//

 

Nicole wakes with her face pressed into a pillow and Waverly’s scent in her lungs.  She smiles when she feels a pleasant ache settled in all the right places, but the smile fades immediately when she goes to stretch.

There’s too much space in the tiny bed.

She peels her eyes open and realizes she’s alone, worry instantly tying her stomach in knots as she sits up in a panic.  Gone is the soft light filtering through the curtains, replaced with an ominous grey that’s turning everything in the room to ash, the faint pattering of raindrops on the windowpane almost thunderous in the deafening silence.

The room has grown dark, the shadows have grown long, the bed has grown cold.

Nicole pushes away the sheet that’s pooled around her waist and disentangles her legs from where they are twisted up in the blanket.  Her heart is rabbiting in her chest and she can actually feel her pulse pounding in her throat when her bare feet hit the scratchy rug Waverly has placed next to her bed.

She scans the room, eyes still adjusting to the dim light as her instinct kicks in.  She crouches low, preparing for…  well, she’s not exactly sure what.  In the house of the Earps, there’s really no telling  _ what _ you might find yourself up against.

Her sweep of the room stalls when she notices a bundle on the desk chair a few feet away.  Taking a cautious step forward, her shoulders relax, the tension easing from her exposed body.

Waverly has neatly folded her discarded clothes and stacked them with care on the chair.  On top of the pile is a pastel pink Post-It with a bubbly heart doodled on it in glittery purple ink.  Nicole huffs out a relieved laugh, rolling her eyes at herself for automatically assuming the worst.

Grabbing up her clothes – after making sure to tuck the piece of paper safely into the pocket of her jeans – she peeks her head out the door and checks the hallway.  When she sees the coast is clear, she darts into the bathroom across the hall and turns on the shower, letting the steam seep into her chilled skin while she waits for the water to be ready.

A short while later, Nicole makes her way down the stairs, her still damp hair thrown up into a messy bun.   Water droplets trail down her neck as she reaches the bottom, still buttoning her shirt when she rounds the corner into the kitchen.

What she sees stops her dead in her tracks, her blood running cold.

She takes an involuntary step back, only stopping when her ankle hits the worn wood of the stairwell. Shock turns her legs to stone, and Nicole almost topples over, only managing to stop herself from falling by grasping the handrail so hard her knuckles start to hurt. 

Waverly is standing in the middle of the kitchen, face buried in what is left of the spider-demon  _ thingy _ she and Wynonna had a scrape with back at the station. Nicole wants to turn and run, rush back up the way she came from and lock herself behind closed doors. 

Instead she stands stock still and cannot tear her eyes away. 

She watches, like someone suddenly finding themselves in the middle of an abattoir, as Waverly’s teeth rip into the spider’s underbelly, tearing off a chunk of grisly meat. Brackish fluids drip down the brunette’s chin, and when she gulps down the bite sized chunk of flesh, Nicole fails to hold in a sound that’s half scream, half the scratchy, heaving protest of her guts. 

The sound is enough to distract Waverly from her nightmarish meal, and for a hopeful second Nicole thinks this is the moment the dream will lift from her drowsy mind, and she’ll wake up upstairs, her girlfriend snuggled safely against her side. 

She doesn’t stop to question how a dream can feel this  _ real  _ \- after all, stranger things have been known to happen in Purgatory.

Then Waverly’s gaze meets hers and Nicole’s hand drops to her waist, and a gun that isn’t there. The young Earp’s eyes are cruel, solid obsidian and she regards Nicole with the same look one reserves an insect right before stomping it into the ground. 

Air is punched out of Nicole’s lungs, so hard and fast that her ribs ache with the sudden contracting of her chest. She presses a hand to her stomach, whether to keep herself from screaming or try and shake herself awake, she isn’t sure. 

But it’s not a dream, nor a nightmare, even though the things she glimpses writhing within the terrible void of Waverly’s eyes are enough to have her break into a cold sweat. 

Her hand clenches hopelessly at her side and Nicole regrets having left her spare gun upstairs. 

“Waverly?” she croaks feebly, in the hopes that the real one will hear her and show up. Because the one standing across from her is surely a counterfeit, and definitely not human. 

_ “Waverly’s not home right now.” _

The voice is deep and layered, reverberating through Nicole and shaking loose the fear that’s clogging her chest.  Haunting laughter echoes in her ears as she calls out futilely for Wynonna.  For Doc. 

For  _ anyone _ .

But there  _ is _ no one. 

No one to wake her from this nightmare.  No one to bear witness and tell her that she’s not crazy.  No one to jump out and laugh and slap each other on the back while they brag about the prank they pulled over on the new girl.

The ominous mocking ceases, the empty house falling eerily quiet.  Nicole tastes bile in her throat when Waverly’s lips curl into a twisted smirk and then a heartbeat later it’s gone, the liquid onyx dissipating until hazel eyes are blinking rapidly at her.

Waverly’s face is clouded with confusion when she spots Nicole gaping at her from the bottom of the stairs, frozen in a silent scream.  She opens her mouth to ask what’s wrong, but that’s when she seems to realize what she’s holding.  What she’s been doing.  What is currently dripping from her chin.

Her face contorts as several reactions try to settle in at once.

Pain.

Disgust.

_ Revulsion _ .

Without warning, her stomach rebels and she retches violently, emptying its contents on the kitchen floor.

“Nicole,” she cries between coughs and gasps.  “What’s happening?”  Tears are streaming down her face, mixing with the sticky residue on her cheeks and the spittle at the corner of her mouth.

Nicole inches away from the stairs, her sights set on the front door, but Waverly turns, stumbling toward her, knocking the chair over in the process.  Nicole grabs blindly for the nearest weapon and comes away with an umbrella from the rack in the entryway.

It’s ridiculous and she  _ feels _ ridiculous and she would laugh at the absurdity of brandishing an umbrella like a circus tamer trying to keep a lion at bay if it weren’t for the fact that Waverly has suddenly appeared between her and the exit as though possessed with some sort of superhuman speed. 

The inky blackness is back in her eyes, swirling in an almost hypnotic manner.  It shimmers like oil on the surface of a body of water, and combined with the vile green ichor still smeared across her lips, Nicole feels like she’s looking into the face of death itself.

“What have you done with Waverly?” she croaks, her voice rough.  Cracked and scratchy.  Sandpaper on glass.  “Where is she?” she demands, still brandishing her feeble weapon.

_ “Waverly is gone.  Fading into the void.  Soon she’ll be lost to it completely.” _  It runs Waverly’s hands down her body slowly.  Enticingly.  A lover’s caress.  Nicole feels sick knowing that her own hands made the same journey just hours ago.   _ “This is  _ my _ home now.” _

“Take me,” Nicole hears herself say.  The words are distant.  Foreign.  Like she’s back in her parents’ pool, calling out  _ Marco _ from under the water and waiting to hear her sister cry  _ Polo _ in return.

It laughs in her face, snapping the umbrella between two fingers like a twig beneath its boot.

She pulls herself to her full height, her chin tilted up defiantly.  She always wondered if she might meet her end on the job.  It’s a risk she willingly signed up for when she chose to be a cop.  And not long ago, it had almost happened, thanks to Willa.  Her life had flashed before her eyes then.

It does so again.

Only this time it is filled with softer images.  Stolen kisses, murmured words, fleeting touches.  Waverly Earp whispering her name while Nicole cradles her protectively.  She would give  _ everything _ for the woman she loves.

She  _ will _ give everything.  To save her.

“Take me,” she says again, stronger this time.  “Take me instead, and let her go.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts?


End file.
